Private Lesson
by Bianca Castafarina
Summary: Tintin/Haddock SLASH, High school AU.   18 year old student Tintin attempts to seduce his history teacher Professor Haddock.
1. Chapter 1

The Private Lesson 1/? - Tintin/Haddock, pwp, NC-17, AU

Archibald Haddock, teacher for History and Geography at the Lyceum Saint-Maurice in Brussels, is not sure this has been a good idea. But it has been the boy's idea, not his, and the young man has something about him that makes it impossible to refuse him any wish. Augustin Remi, the 18-year-old (Haddock has checked his birth date several times, just to make sure) student with the angelic face has insisted he needs extra history lessons to catch up, having missed several classes on account of chasing some irresponsible, dangerous adventure. Well, Remi does not have any parents who tell him not to expose opium smugglers and arms traders and to be home before 23:00. Maybe this is why the lad is always so affectionate around Haddock, even a little more than what is usually deemed appropriate between teacher and student: he probably sees him as a sort of father figure.

Haddock startles when he hears the doorbell, and runs downstairs where Nestor has already opened the door for his guest.

"Good afternoon, Remi." Haddock offers him a formal handshake which the boy readily accepts, holding his teacher's hand just a few seconds longer than necessary. "_Salut,_ Professor Haddock." His smile is sweet as always. "Why don't you call me Tintin as everyone else does?"

"Well..." Haddock grins awkwardly, "I think-"

"Please. Just call me Tintin. No one will hear it here anyway, right?"

He looks so adorable. Irresistible. "All right. Tintin it is, then."

Still smiling, Tintin takes off his trench coat, giving it to Nestor. "I'm quite impressed", he says. "What a gorgeous villa. Or is it a castle? Either way, it's beautiful. Is it all yours?"

"Yes; it belonged to my ancestor, Sir Francis Hadoque. A courageous old bastard he was. But that's not what we'll cover in today's history lesson. C'mon upstairs to the study, lad. You got your textbook?"

"Right here." Tintin pats his heavy shoulder bag, following his teacher upstairs.

.

.

.

Tintin has never seen such an impressive library before. Sure, it is smaller than the school's library, but much more elegant – there is a large mahogany desk, probably from the 19th century, next to a wall almost completely covered by a shelf full of old books and ancient tomes. A big, soft rug, probably sheepskin, is giving the room an aura of _gemütlichkeit_ and coziness, and Tintin catches himself staring at the arrangement for what seems to be a full minute before Professor Haddock gently pushes him towards the desk. "Remi- er, Tintin? Let's start. In the last three classes, we talked about the history of Sparta."

Tintin nods, quickly sitting down at the desk and opening his textbook. Haddock sits down on a chair next to him, searching through his own notes. "I take it you've already done your reading. I'll quiz you first to see how much you've understood and memorized."

"Thank you, sir", Tintin says, touching Haddock's hand with his own. "For taking your time for a private lesson. I appreciate it very much."

"Ah... er... it's important to me that my students all pass their exams with brilliant grades."

Tintin grins when he sees the Professor blush, and he keeps his hand where it is, feeling the warm, hairy back of the man's hand. Most likely Professor Haddock has absolutely no idea how dashing he looks in that casual shirt he's wearing with the top two buttons open, exposing dark chest hair. "Well, Professor, it's a great favour, and I shall make sure to return it some day."

"Don't mention it, lad", Haddock pulls his hand away, waving it through the air; but his blush has turned a shade deeper. He focuses on his notes and Tintin steadily gazes at him, watching him search for something among many sheets of paper. "All right, you mentioned an _oral_ exam, sir."

"Erm... Right. Oral exam." Haddock has found the right notes and glances at Tintin. "Let's begin."

"I'm _ready._" Tintin lowers his head in mock shyness but looks upward at his teacher, giving him the same coy smile that he usually employs to tease the Spanish teacher, Professor Alcazar. He wonders if Haddock is as easily seduced as the others. Either way, Tintin has already decided that he likes Haddock the most – this tall, burly bear of a man, with his captivating and eloquent way of explaining things, and a gruff voice that supplies plenty of daydreaming material.

Haddock rattles off one question after another, barely giving Tintin time to explain his answers in full.

"I see, you've already done your homework... Let's continue on page 248, with the role of the slaves in the structure of the Spartan state."

"I've got a question regarding Ancient Greece, sir."

"Go ahead." Haddock leafs through the textbook, not looking at him.

"Is it true that in Ancient Greece they had legitimate love relationships between men and boys?" Tintin moves his chair a little closer to Haddock's, pretending to be extremely curious. Now the Professor is looking at him wide-eyed. "Well..." He clears his throat. "Where'd you read about _that_?"

"It's mentioned in a book in the school library", Tintin says, keeping his gaze focused on Haddock. Again the Professor seems flustered. Truly, what fun this is!

Haddock shrugs as though he is explaining the most natural and common thing in the world. "Yes, they did, and it was quite unique to Ancient Greece. When a boy reached puberty, he could enter a relationship with an older man if he wanted to, and if his father approved the suitor."

"Suitor?" Tintin giggles. "How quaint! I guess that nowadays it would be the boys choosing their men, not the other way around."

Haddock stares at him, wordlessly, and Tintin enjoys the Professor's mildly shocked look. "Oh, I meant that just theoretically, sir", he explains, smiling. "In today's world there aren't really any men who would enjoy the company of a boy as a lover."

"Um, well-"

"Or are there?"

.

.

.

Haddock still is not sure this has been a good idea. Remi – no, Tintin – is blatantly flirting with him, blistering barnacles! His student, of all people! Thundering typhoons!

There is no way a naïve, inexperienced young man would look at him like _that_, is there?

But if Haddock knows it is wrong why does he feel that warm, exciting thrill in the depths of his core?

He goes on to explain, "The older man was called the _erastes,_ and his young lover the _eromenos_. Actually their bond had to be mostly platonic in order to be socially accepted. The love relationship between a man and a boy was what the Greeks thought to be closest to the ideal of divine love as defined by Plato, ranking even higher than the bond between man and woman."

"How _fascinating_", Tintin says, his gaze firmly focused on his teacher's face. He is leaning so close to Haddock that the Professor can see long ginger lashes around Tintin's beautiful green eyes. He notices the soft curve of Tintin's small pink lips that are slightly parted, sees Tintin's tongue flick over them for a fraction of a second-

"Professor? … Please, do continue. This is most interesting."

"Wha-? Ah, yes." Oh no, has he been _staring_? Haddock quickly gathers his wits. "Right. Where was I?"

"The love relationship between_ eromenos _and _erastes. _What was the idea behind it?" Tintin licks his lips. "If it was more or less arranged, like a marriage, surely it had some practical use?"

"Um... Yes, but I think we should continue with the history of Sparta now; we don't have time for extracurricular studies."

"Oh, Professor, _please!_" Tintin's hand lands on Haddock's thigh, enthusiastically imploring, and he leans even closer to Haddock. "Please, I really want to know more about this!"

That smile. Haddock will be damned if he can resist _that _smile.

"For example..." Tintin lets his hand travel further up Haddock's lap, "what exactly did they do in that sort of relationship? Was the elder lover teaching _things_ to his boyfriend?"

The Professor has to swallow hard. Is it not warm in this room at all so why is he sweating? The lad's hand is dangerously close near his groin, and at first he has no idea what to say. It takes a few seconds until his rational mind can analyze the situation. "Remi", he says with as much formal stiffness as he can muster, "I don't think you know what you're doing."

He cannot, however, bring himself to push Tintin's hand away.

Tintin's smile widens, and he raises an eyebrow. "That so?"

Haddock holds his breath. He knows as damn well as the boy what is going on, and yet he has no power to stop – but he is a teacher, for blistering barnacles' sake, he shouldn't... he absolutely mustn't...!

There is no use resisting.

And then Tintin's mouth is on his, nudging and licking, teasing him gently, and Tintin's hand is on his face, and the boy's other hand, _thundering typhoons!_ is squeezing the front of his pants -

Tintin kisses him.

Haddock surrenders.

* * *

><p><p>

(to be continued)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tintin knows he has him when Haddock responds to the kiss, and he savours the triumph, the growing arousal. He kisses his teacher passionately, not minding the slightly rough beard against his face.

He feels bolder now, grasping the other man's growing erection through his trousers. Eager to see what that cock looks like, how big it is, how it will feel against him, _inside_ him, Tintin has to restrain himself from opening Haddock's pants right away. _Not yet._ He has to take it slow. Some men back away if he makes his move too fast.

Interrupting the kiss, and again licking his own lips as though he can still taste Haddock on them, Tintin looks at the Professor with the most innocent, blushing face that his seduction repertoire has to offer. "_Mon dieu_", he exhales, feeling his cheeks fluster with virginal embarrassment that is about half faked, "I feel so _hot_… It's like when I think of you, but even hotter. Please, sir, will you help me with that?"

Haddock stares at him, then he grabs Tintin's quiff, his other hand lands on Tintin's nape. Tintin gasps in surprise.

"You ginger devil", Haddock whispers into Tintin's ear, his warm breath sending delectable shivers down Tintin's spine. "No need to play innocent, you little minx. I can see right through you."

Tintin stares at him, completely caught off guard, then he smiles. "Yes, sir."

"Why don't you tell me right now what you want, eh?" Haddock's hands wander down to Tintin's chest and waist.

"You. I want you… _sir_. Please, let me suck you off."

"Thundering typhoons, aren't you an eager one!" Haddock seems amused, and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs. "Go ahead, lad. But I'm warning you – if you think those shenanigans will earn you better grades, you're mistaken."

Tintin kneels down, fumbling with the zipper of his teacher's trousers. "I know, sir. But I want you, even I'd have to fail your class for it."

Finally he frees Haddock's erection, amazed at how large it looks from this angle when he kneels in front of the chair. It's quite a sight, that thick cock, solid and ready – ready for _him_, and that's how Tintin likes them.

He begins by teasing him, licking it slowly, spreading a generous amount of saliva onto it.

Haddock leans his head back, sighing, and Tintin continues; getting him slick and wet before finally taking him into his mouth.

Tasting slight saltiness he begins to suck and move gently, making sure his teeth are not touching the shaft. He takes him in as far as he can manage which is only halfway – he has not practiced _that_ much yet. At the same time his hands explore Haddock's lower belly, so fascinatingly hairy. Tintin tugs at Haddock's trousers to further expose his balls, cupping them in one hand while sucking him.

His mouth is starting to feel dry so he pulls away for a short pause, admiring the erection which is now even harder, and its head shiny with clear fluid. Enclosing his hand around the base Tintin brushes the glans over his parted lips, smearing the pre-cum over his mouth, and looking up at Haddock while teasing him in this naughty way.

The Professor is staring back at him, flushed and speechless. Apparently he likes what he sees.

Tintin again takes him in, as deeply as he can manage without invoking the gag reflex; and begins sucking lightly. He hears Haddock moan, feels the Professor's hand on his head, and his own cock responds eagerly. Tintin wants him, wants him so badly; and hoping that Haddock will keep his hand there he sucks a little harder, moving his mouth up and down the hard, glistening length.

He can hardly wait to have that cock inside him so he will make sure not to let Haddock come yet. The Professor needs to be ready for him.

Letting go, Tintin shuffles back to his feet, leaning his face close to Haddock's. Excitedly he observes his teachers flustered face, feeling his breath going faster.

"We'll have to stop here, sir", he says, his wet lips barely touching Haddock's mouth, "because I want _more_, and I want it_ now_."

There is a drop of clear fluid on Tintin's finger and he slowly licks it away. The Professor apparently tries to say something but stays silent, staring at Tintin with unconcealed lust.

Tintin brings his mouth close to Haddock's ear, and whispers the words.

"_Do me."_

Haddock's reaction is a bit more violent than Tintin has expected. The Professor stands up, grabbing Tintin's waist and the student gasps in surprise when he feels himself being bent over the desk, Haddock shoving himself against Tintin vehemently from behind.

Large, calloused hands roughly push up his shirt and tug down his plus fours. The rush of arousal spreading through Tintin is so intense that he moans, pushing his exposed behind against Haddock's pelvis.

Then the Professor's fingers are finding their way into Tintin's mouth, and Tintin sucks them greedily.

Reaching behind himself Tintin grabs his own ass, spreading the cheeks apart. "Mm-mh", he mumbles against the digits in his mouth, trying to signal to Haddock to take him this instant.

He hears a low grunt from the Professor as the fingers are suddenly gone, then Tintin feels a hand on his butt, followed by slick, wet fingers at his entrance. He utters an brief cry when Haddock pushes them into him, stretching and spreading him.

Tintin moves, rubbing his own throbbing erection against the table – it is difficult since the Professor is keeping him firmly in place; but at last he gives in to Tintin's urging, pressing his hard cock against Tintin's hole.

At last! The student trembles, almost unable to bear the sweet anticipation, twitching as the still wet tip slips over his entrance, missing its target a few times, before Haddock impatiently uses a hand to push it inside.

A short stab of pain – Tintin sharply draws in breath – soon replaced by the familiar sensation of being filled, raw and rough; and he groans.

Haddock forces himself all the way inside Tintin, his hard thrusts accompanied by wordless panting. His hands are keeping Tintin firmly in place, occasionally surprising him with a light slap on the butt.

The antique desk grunts and creaks but Tintin is louder, moving against Haddock and moaning as he feels him hit his prostate, building up aching, desperate tension inside him.

Haddock's hands tighten around him, nails digging into Tintin's hips, and then the Professor's body is tensing. Tintin senses a familiar twitching as Haddock comes inside him.

.

.

.

Haddock sits on the chair, utterly exhausted as he has not been in a long time; and it's all because of that spoilt jezebel of a young man standing in front of him.

"It's not fair, sir", Tintin says, looking down at him accusingly. "You're supposed to let me come _first._" He is wearing nothing but a shirt, and his skin, moist with sweat, exudes glowing radiance. Semen is trickling down the insides of his thighs; and he is still half erect, positioning himself in front of Haddock so that the Professor can see it.

It is a most amazing sight, and Haddock gazes at it to make sure it stays in his memory. If only he were a few years younger! He would be ready to go again right now, ravishing this insatiable minx right here on the soft carpet, professional values be damned.

"Well, that's what you get for teasing your superiors", Haddock says, unable to contain a smug grin. "But if you're a good boy, maybe I'll give you what you want some other time."


End file.
